I Know You
by reagancrew
Summary: "We've got to stop meeting like this, darling." When Myka is under the sway of an artifact, HG is put in a bit of a tricky situation. Just a quick, little AU oneshot of good ole Bering and Wells.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Warehouse 13...**

**Enjoy! **

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"You know, I was under the impression that with the wedding vows came an agreement to discontinue meeting in this fashion. Gun point is growing a bit dull, darling."

"Where is she?" her hazel eyes are flashing with anger and fear.

"Myka," HG's voice is placating as she takes a step back, away from the gun to her chest.

"Where _is _she?!" the taller woman's words come out strangled. "What have you done with my wife?"

"Darling, darling, it's me," and even though she shouldn't, even though her fight or flight senses are screaming at her not to, she reaches out, reaches for the woman in front of her.

"No!" Myka gasps, lunging forward, and grabbing the smaller woman, swinging them around so one of her arms is notched around HG's neck and the other hand has the cold metal of the barrel resting against the underside of her jaw. Helena knows better than to struggle in this situation. Myka is clearly under the influence of the artifact, and she always was capably of disarming the older woman in such a hopeless way. "I know Helena. I _know _her. And you are. an. impostor." The words come out harsh at her ear and HG wants to wince at the fury behind them. But she doesn't, attempting to remain as relaxed as possible. She can feel Myka's heart beating furiously against her back. The other woman's breath is hot and angry on her cheek.

"Myka," she tries to say her lover's name with as much strength as she possibly can, "it's me. Please." But all she gets in response is a yank on her hair, pulling her head further back.

"I don't think it's here!" And that's Pete voice from around the corner, sounding somewhat confused. "HG? Any sign of it in there?"

"No," she yells in response, gasping when Myka tightens her grasp. "But it must be here somewhere."

"I don't think so..." But Pete trails off as he steps into the room. His hands automatically go up, assuming the surrender position, the tesla in his right, and his eyes squint, taking in the scene before him.

"Honestly, Peter. I do believe it must be here somewhere," she repeats, staring at him and trying for nonchalant, even as he watches his partner over her shoulder. She fails miserably.

He nods, still not looking at her. "You know, it's great that the two of you are in love and all that gooey stuff, but maybe we could leave the role playing for _after _the missions," he suggests to Myka. Now it is his turn to fail at sounding light.

"Put it down," Myka snaps, taking the gun from Helena's throat to wave it lazily in the direction of his tesla. He bends from the waist to do as he is told, knowing better than to force the issue when Myka's using her power tone.

"Now. Where is she?"

"Who?" Pete questions, obviously still a bit behind.

"She means me," Helena explains casually. But Myka pushes the gun against her throat once more.

"I mean my wife," and the taller agent practically bites off the word.

"Look, Mykes," her partner begins, "I think something's got you a little cuckoo right now, which is totally cool," he amends quickly when she shifts in place, annoyed. "I mean, if I were you, I would have gone off my rocker at HG a long time ago," he grins.

"Peter. Not helping."

"Right, right. Sorry," he glances apologetically at her.

Myka is angry that they're ignoring her. "Listen, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but this woman," she gives Helena a bit of a shake, "is not who she is pretending to be. And I demand to know where you're keeping my wife."

If the situation wasn't quite so comically tense, HG thinks she might be enjoying the number of times that word has slid past Myka's lips in the past ten minutes. Instead, she finds it a bit bothersome. "I _am _Helena," she tries once more, but promptly shuts up when Myka cocks the gun.

"I'm going to count to five," the fierce woman threatens, staring at Pete who is looking helplessly at the two people in front of him. "One."

"I- Claudia is looking still. She'll find it," he's trying to reassure himself more than anything. Helena swallows.

"Two."

"Myka. Mykes, listen to me," and Pete takes a cautious step forward. "Maybe, maybe you're right. Maybe that isn't HG. But we can find her. If you put the gun down, we can find her. Together." He's taken another step.

"Three."

"Claudia," Pete shouts over his shoulder. "Claudia, I could really use some help in here."

"Four." Helena closes her eyes.

"Like, now!" And Pete is a bit frantic.

"Got it! I've got it!" the youngest agent calls from near the front door. There is the sound of triumphant laughter and then skidding feet as she runs towards the back room where the three of them are frozen in place. "It was in that umbrella stand by the front door. The one crazy old grandma lady knocked Myka into on our way...in. I don't know why we didn't check there," but her voice trails off and stalls as she comes to an abrupt halt behind Pete, taking in the situation. She is wearing a pair of purple gloves and there is a cane clutched in her hand almost like a sword. "Well. That's unfortunate," she mutters.

Myka has yet to say five. It's as if none of them know quite what to do.

"Perhaps the two of you might consider..." Helena shifts her stance.

"Oh! Oh right. Yeah," Pete comes back to his senses. He pulls a long, skinny silver bag out of his jacket pocket, watching Myka carefully as he does so.

"What are you doing?" she questions him abruptly.

"Take it easy, Mykes," he says, sliding closer to Claudia. "And cover your eyes!" he shouts as the red head slips the artifact into the bag and turns away. Helena closes her eyes automatically at the sudden sparks given off as the bag is closed around the offending item. When she peeks one open again several seconds later, it is to find the room unchanged, except that the arm wrapped around her neck is missing. Breathing a sigh of relief, she steps forward, rubbing her throat and grimacing.

"Well. That might have gone better," she smirks, dusting her hands off, even as Pete and Claudia stare at her. "But all in all, good work, team." She turns to find Myka looking at the gun in her hand in confusion, uncomprehendingly. Her lover's green eyes find her own black ones and the confusion turns to agony in the space of a heartbeat.

"Helena," it is a whisper, and the gun drops to the floor with a loud thunk which seems to echo throughout the room. "Oh God. What did I do?" The taller woman is staring at her hands in disgust. "What have I done?"

HG spares a glance out the large picture window, "Peter, might I suggest you go outside and give Agent Jinks a hand with the 'crazy old grandma lady.' He appears to be having a bit of difficulty."

"Sure," she hears from behind, having already returned her attention to the woman crumbling in on herself.

"And, I'll just go...call Artie. To let him know that w-we got it! No biggie!" Claudia suggests to herself. "Right. I'll just go call, Artie."

Helena doesn't even bother to nod, but she waits until the young agent's retreating footsteps have faded from hearing.

"What have I done?" Myka questions once more, staring heartbreakingly at the whole and still breathing woman in front of her.

"Thankfully, absolutely nothing that isn't already forgotten," Helena tries for light and easy.

"No," Myka rejects her, turning away and wrapping shaking arms around her waist. "No."

"It's nothing you haven't done in the past, darling." She smiles. "Really. No harm done." Helena approaches her wife from behind, reaching a single slender hand to rest on Myka's shoulder. The other woman flinches. But Helena continues, reaching to wrap her arm around Myka's waist and rest her head against the strong back before her. "Perhaps we should devise some way of avoiding such situations however. Just, for future reference. It's not that I _mind _when you take control," she chuckles low and deep in her throat, and is pleased when Myka lets out a half sob, half laugh, "but perhaps we should take Agent Lattimer up on his suggestion and keep such times...private."

Myka turns to face the black eyed time traveler. "I know you," she insists, running a finger along Helena's porcelain cheek.

"And I, you," Helena agrees, leaning forward to press a light kiss to waiting lips. "I thought the honeymoon glow was supposed to last for longer than a week. Perhaps I ought to give you a refresher course this evening," she teases.

Myka groans, but smiles at the light in her lover's eyes. "Forgotten?" she fingers HG's lapel shyly, sadly.

The smaller woman lifts her chin. "What, darling? I'm afraid all I can remember is wanting to kiss you once more."

And, having never been one to deny herself of pleasure, she did just that.


End file.
